


How Long Does It Take?

by chewingonpearls (Reallife)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Art discussions, Author is going to shove her beloved minor characters in your face, Canon Jewish Character, College AU, Darcy is a Stark - Freeform, Dlss2k16, F/F, F/M, Gen, Gift Fic, Height difference, Jewish Character, Jewish Darcy Lewis, Minor pairings - Freeform, Volunteer Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 19:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8908669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reallife/pseuds/chewingonpearls
Summary: How long does it take to fall in love?Or the more important questionHow long does it take to get your head out of your ass and tell the other person about it?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GlynnisIsta8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlynnisIsta8/gifts).



Tropes requested that are featured:

 

Mutual Pining  
One person figures it out before the other and leads them on/seduces the other  
Darcy as a Stark (as Howard’s daughter though, not Tony’s. Does that get me partial credit?)  
Laughter leading to kisses  
_Not requested tropes that you get anyway_  
College!AU  
Jewish!Darcy  
Appearances from other Marvel characters you probably don’t give two shits about  
Meddling friends  
Small town tropes/cliches  
geyness

 

~*~  
_Steve and Darcy’s Freshmen Year_  
“Man on the floor!” The familiar shout caused Kitty Pryde to jump from her sitting position on the couch, eyes narrowed down the hall at the incoming girls. Beside her, Daisy peered around much more sedately but still curiously (though lacking in Kitty’s ire)

 

Behind them, on the floor, Mack and Steve exchanged amused glances, watching Daisy’s face flush as Kitty’s new posture gave her a rather, erm, different view of legs and behind, bringing them in closer proximity to her as Kitty perched on her knees to look over the back of the couch.

 

“Jubilee! Did you sign him in?” Jubilee’s groan seemed to echo down the hallway, and an unfamiliar more quiet laugh answered it as the sound of boxes being set on the floor joined the noise.

 

Mack and Steve were having a silent conversation consisting of raised eyebrows, half shrugs and half-hearted glances towards the door. Both their study partners were distracted, they might as well leave--

 

”Hello Katya, it’s so nice to see you again after like, an entire presidential term of me being away, what a lovely way to greet your sister.”

 

Over the couch came the owner of the sarcastic voice, a tiny Asian girl with bright pink sunglasses pushed up onto pixie cut black hair that was, frankly, everywhere.

 

She took in the boys and Daisy. “Nice to meetcha’ I’m Jubilee.” She reached back behind her, waving her arm wildly before another woman came up to the couch to lean on it alongside her.

 

“This is Darcy, I picked her up on my roadtrip and that studmuffin--” Jubilee looked behind her and huffed before retreating back down the hallway. She returned hauling a man behind her. Steve recognized from around campus but couldn’t put a name to. “This is Sam, he was nice enough to help us carry our junk up here since Darce and I are delicate flowers.”

 

Darcy, who had a mess of black curls, bright blue cateye glasses and a large sweatshirt that looked well loved, looked them over with a sort of half smile that did little to hide her amusement “Yo.” 

 

She didn’t elaborate on how she had been ‘picked up’ by Jubilee, causing Steve to think of a whole array of possibilities, from the ridiculous--on the run with a new identity--to the mundane: that the two had simply met at the mall or something. Jubilee looked like the mall type.

 

(If he had to look back, he would say this was the first point where he was curious about Darcy Lewis. That lazy grin, the worn sweater with the outlandish glasses. It should have been ridiculous but it somehow wasn’t)

 

“Hey guys, sorry to interrupt.” Sam smiled at them and extended his hand over the couch as both Daisy and Kitty sat down properly so the newcomers had more room.

 

Steve and Mack both reached out to shake his hand one after the other. “Don’t worry about it, we’d been working for a bit already, my neck was hurting.” Mack said

 

Kitty’s arms were crossed over her chest, and though Steve had only known her for a single semester he already knew her aggravated face very well. “It’s about time, Jubilee! Galavanting around the country on that loud dangerous motorcycle--”

 

“Hey, Kitty--”

 

Instead of paying attention to her lecture Jubilee was watching Mack, maintaining eye contact with him while blowing an obnoxious bright pink bubblegum bubble before popping it loudly. “Not all of us can ace school without even trying, Katya--”

 

Sam looked uncomfortable with the family squabble brewing near him, but Darcy seemed unperturbed, going so far as to swing over the back of the couch to sit near Daisy. “So I didn’t catch your name?” It was loud enough to get everyone’s attention but not so loud as to be obvious, and it worked.

 

“Oh! I’m so sorry! I was rude!”

 

“Yeah you were _Katya_ ” Jubilee smirked from where she leaned against Sam, though he seemed to be watching her with a mix of amusement and apprehension.

 

“Stop calling me that!” Kitty’s face was flush with annoyance and embarrassment, eyes automatically darting to Daisy, who had yet to make a move to reclaim her personal space even though Darcy was inching farther and farther into it.

 

Kitty’s eyes seemed to flash with jealousy for a moment before she cleared her throat. “My name is Kitty Pryde, RA for this floor, double computer science and poli sci major.” She then pointed to the other three in turn. “That’s Steve Rogers, double Criminology and Art major, Alphonso Mackenzie who we just call Mack, Mechanical Engineering Major, and Daisy Johnson, Computer Science major.”

 

Darcy’s eyes wrinkled as she laughed, glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose while she leaned her head against Daisy’s shoulder. “Is that how everyone introduces themselves around here, first name, last name, and major?” Her lips, which had faded red lipstick on them seemed to curl in distaste at that.

 

Steve shrugged helplessly. “Sort of. At least until you establish your circle, I guess. What about you?” He tried to hide the fact that he was more curious than he should be, although he probably failed.

 

Darcy just shrugged. “Anthropology,” as if it was no big deal, and maybe to her it wasn’t, but college was one of the most important milestones in Steve’s life. He’d busted his ass to get good grades in high school so he could get scholarships so that his mother’s sacrifices , who had worked her fingers to the bone to provide for him his whole life, until her death when he was barely a teenager wouldn’t be for nothing.

 

He wanted to take care of her. He wanted to help people, like she did.

 

For him, college was a very necessary step in a big dream.

 

To Darcy it was just--

 

“Hey, I’m hungry, what’s there to eat around here?”

 

It’s the beginning of February, nearly a month after their first meeting, before Steve has a chance to talk to Darcy alone. Some club or another was having a party or something in the main lobby of the library, and the sound seemed to penetrate up to the second floor to his normal study table. 

 

So, he was poking around trying to find somewhere quiet--which led him to a tiny metal staircase barely wide enough for him--which led him to a small room that was blessedly quiet.

 

Upon further exploration, he found another small set of stairs, these looking even more suspect and more like attic stairs than anything else. Now, curious and intrigued, he climbed them, finding another small room that appeared to be filled with very old books and records. An archival room, probably.

 

Most importantly, it was also very quiet. The noise from the first floor was completely silenced, and Steven poked around hoping for a desk or table and found--Darcy.

 

She looked up at him and he fought the urge to squirm. “I’m sorry to interrupt I’ll leave you alone--”

 

But she smiled and he couldn’t help but relax. It was embarrassing how little it took from her to grab his attention or change his mood. He even noticed it when they ate meals as a group. He could pick her laugh out of a lineup and he hardly knew her, really.

 

“You’re chill, pop a squat Steve-O.” 

 

It was rude to decline an invitation, even an nontraditional one, so he did just that, dropped his bag on the table and pulled out a chair.

 

Darcy watched him for a moment before going back to whatever she was writing, and he tried to get out his own textbooks as quietly as he could as to not bother her more. It would be rude of him to start a conversation, when she was obviously hiding away in order to escape interaction and noise. Ruder still to ask any questions to sate his curiosity about her, even though he had quite a few. Why Anthropology? She didn’t resemble any of the other Anthro majors he had met. How had she met Jubilee? Had she planned on attending this college or did her new friend just convince her?

 

What was her family like? Where was she from?

 

“You’re burnin’ holes in my hair, Steve, can I help you with somethin’ or are you just browsing?”

 

Well. So much for not distracting her, and so much for not making a fool of himself because while her head was still tilted towards her notebook, her pretty blue eyes were watching him intently and there was a flush rising to his cheeks he knew too well.

 

Again, he fought the urge to squirm. “I was just wondering where--uh.” Damnit. “What you were up to when you met Jubilee?” Hopefully it was the least awkward and easiest way to start, if she was going to humor him, that is.

 

Darcy tilted her head to the side, as if she were remembering something. “Working at a diner actually, avoiding my family and using a fake name to do it. Jubilee’s perceptive, too sincere for her own good self figured both out and here we are.” 

 

It was surprisingly honest, and he wasn’t sure how to react for a moment at her being so open, even though there was clearly a great deal she wasn’t saying. Should he say something sympathetic, that she felt such a strong need to avoid her family she was using a fake identity? Were they abusive?

 

Did she even want to be here at all?

 

“Well. For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here and,” he smiled, hard not to when she was so close and being so candid with him, “if you need any help hiding from them again, you can call on me.” He was both joking and sincere and they both knew it.

 

Without thinking about it, Steve extended his hand to her, their second handshake. This one lingered more, her fingers pulling back from his slower and eyes taking in his face with a little more intent than she had before.

 

(This was when he realized how little Darcy had to do to be intriguing and eye catching to him. She didn’t need to be coy, particularly sexy or even brilliant, she just had to _be Darcy_ and it was enough to make him lose his focus completely.)

 

 

Sam and Steve jumped in unison at the twin slams at their table. Sam managed to not bang his knees on the damn thing in the process, while Steve as not so lucky. He rubbed his sore knee and glared at his friend who was laughing at him, along with the two women on either side of their table who had suddenly dropped large books on the oak to make a dramatic entrance.

 

“Kitty. Darcy. What can we do for you?” It’s not that he meant to grumble at them, but it was kind of embarrassing and his heart was still pounding in his chest.

 

Darcy grinned at them. “Sam. Steve. Our buddies. Pals. Friends. Homies. Duderinos. Chums--”

 

Kitty rolled her eyes in a way that was almost audible with annoyance, but it was Sam who asked the obvious, “What do you want?”

 

Darcy pulled out a chair in one swift motion and scooted it closer to Sam, fluttering her eyelashes dramatically in a way that was overdone and cheesy and should _not_ have made him feel just a teensy bit jealous.

 

“So kind of you to ask! Sammy boy!” Darcy had a way of sliding into other people’s personal space while not allowing them into her own. It was an odd sort of dance she did with fine but fuzzy lines that he definitely did not glean from watching her around campus and at shared lunch tables.

 

Kitty sat down as well, though much more sedately. “Our synagogue is having a festival to celebrate the start of spring break and encourage people to have fun without being stupid. Families, college kids, moonbounce, the works. We were hoping you guys would volunteer.”

 

More like volun _told_ , but Steve didn’t say that. “You mean can we come over early, and stay late to lift stuff for you? Also, I’m Catholic, is that a problem?”

 

Sam was already warming up to the idea, going by the look on his face. “So? I’m Southern Baptist, Steve, but kids are kids, just don’t touch anything inside you don’t know what it is. Be respectful.” Like anyone needed to remind him of that, thank you very much.

 

Darcy nodded, looking pleased with herself. “Besides, we have Mack for the lifting and the mechanical stuff--”

 

“You mean to keep Jubilee in line,” Kitty mumbled, down at the other end of the table.

 

“--we need you for the face painting and balloon animals,” Darcy continued, pointing to Steve before patting Sam’s shoulder. “And you for child safety and triage at the moon bounce and potentially the slip-and-slide.”

 

Kitty had reached over to the papers in front of Steve to tug at his homework, curious as ever about what everyone else was working on. That wasn’t enough to distract him from watching Darcy though, and he lifted his arm without protest. 

 

“I should have never told you I did that in high school,” Steve grumbled. Except he was lying, and she knew it, he wouldn’t give up their quiet conversations tucked away in the archive room for anything

 

Darcy had the gall to wink at him. “I know how to use all my available assets Steve-O.” With that, she patted Sam’s shoulder and stood up to saunter towards the vending machines, leaving a blushing Steve and a laughing Sam in her wake.

 

(He was beginning to suspect Darcy knew about his infatuation with her, and if he was smarter, or more in control, or more sensible, or more any other number of things then he would try and hide it better. But it’s just a crush. It’ll pass.)

 

It didn’t pass, because his luck is terrible like that, it isn’t helped by the fact that they text over the summer while she is roadtripping with Daisy. Neither of them like to stay in one place apparently, both restless and fidgety when forced to stay still for too long.

 

Sam texts him too, although too much of it is about the pretty ( _stunning_ Sam always corrects him) redhead he had met at the festival that Kitty’s synagogue held.

 

At least Steve and Kitty bonded over the summer, getting together when she came over for a cookout at Bucky’s with the whole family that had adopted Steve when his mother died. It gave them both a chance to actually admit their crushes and jealousy that the objects of their affection were off “galavanting across the country” instead of...well, with them.

 

It also gave Sarah Barnes an older, ambitious, bisexual Jewish woman to connect with, which was an unexpected perk of their friendship.

 

Two weeks after school let out Kitty was at Steve’s church with him, and they were giving out lunches to kids who normally had school supplied food at school to child after child after child that Steve saw himself in so much he _aches_ and Darcy called.

 

Except it didn’t sound like her, not really, he couldn’t help but think as he stepped outside where it was quiet. She sounded small and subdued. “I don’t know if I want to go back, Steve.” There are speeches he could give, if he’d thought it was just lack of motivation for more education. Speeches he had heard Mack give Jubilee when she started saying she was fed up with class, speeches he had heard in high school when the AP classes got to be too much.

 

But it sounded like more than that, and he wondered, not for the first time, if Darcy wandered around because she wanted to see the world, or if because she never felt like she belonged anywhere.

 

“Darcy, where do you feel comfortable?” Steve tried to sound soft, tried not to sound like he was pushing with her or pleading or any other emotion he felt because the strongest one was concern. He would give up ever being able to see her again if it meant she was happy.

 

On the other side she seemed to take a shaky breath. “Making bets with Sam and Jubes about when Kitty and Daisy are finally going to become official, helping paint sets for plays, dressing up for Rocky Horror with Jubilee, Kitty quizzing me before an exam and rewarding me with jelly beans,” which they both knew she made a grab for even when she got them wrong but that wasn’t the point, because she sounded more sure--

 

More confident. More herself when she said, “In the library. With you. Or studying at night outside like idiots on those dirty picnic tables. Eating lunch with you so I can steal your fries.”

 

It would be best for him to say something selfless right now. Something inspiring, even. Except his throat is closing and his eyes are burning and he’s being ridiculous because they are just _friends_ and Darcy Lewis is far too--a great many things to ever look at him the way he looks at her. 

 

Too at ease with social situations. Too beautiful. Too clever. Too smart. Everything.

 

“I miss you.”

 

“Miss you too Steve-o. I’ll see you.”

 

Darcy doesn’t say _when_ before she hangs up the phone, but he still can’t help but feel ridiculously hopeful all the same, no matter how foolish it may be.

 

(Steve felt foolish, childish and in need of comfort all the time. He called Mrs. Barnes in a fit of nostalgia, for days when she comforted him before he hit his growth spurt and felt like he would be pathetic and lonely for the rest of his days. _I’ve only known her for eight months. I’m being an idiot_ he told her and she laughed gently in a way that somehow avoided being mocking, _Oh Steve, and how long does it take to fall in love, exactly?_ he just sniffled, less than eight months apparently;)

They had gone back to texting like normal, as if nothing had happened. Maybe nothing did. 

Steve had been complaining that he missed nerding out in art classes and debating his fellow art lovers over different art styles and medium. It’s a silly thing to miss, he thought, but Darcy humored him, he just didn’t realize to what degree until she called him halfway through the summer. 

_“I’m at the MOMA.”_ She said, with no preamble, _“In San Francisco.”_

Steve paused, mid pancake flip and blinked at the phone disbelieving. “I didn’t know you were a museum person.” Shit. Did that sound insulting? 

Thankfully, Darcy just laughed. _“I’m usually not, but I thought since one of the brightest people I know loved them I should give them a shot, but I know diddly squat about art so you’re going to have to help.”_

So from across the country Steve Rogers guided her through the art, drew her into a debate about What Defines Art as she described to him metal sculptures that didn’t look like anything in particular to Darcy. 

“This isn’t art,” she stated bluntly, walking around what she described as a colorful, overly complex, barely moving wind vane. 

Breakfast long forgotten, Steve paced across his living room. “Darcy, what is the purpose of art?” He rushed forward before she could answer. “It makes you feel something, it makes you wonder, it makes you _think_. Art can be a puzzle or it can be our sole sanctuary when there is no other. Art is flexible, you have to be to enjoy it.” 

_“I think you’re right, but I’m still not sure where I stand on--Oh Steve,” she breathed out his name like it was a prayer and his brain fizzled. _“It looks like she’s alive.”_ _

It turns out _it_ was another sculpture, probably made of bronze the way she described it, displayed over a manmade creek that ran through the outdoor garden of the MoMA. Crafted to look as if she was twisting over it in a graceful leap, Darcy was enraptured by it. Though she didn’t describe it like one of his professors would have, Steve closed his eyes and could see the woman, as vivacious and alive as Darcy herself because of the sudden passion and adoration she used to describe it. 

_“This makes me understand what you love a little more, Steve.”_ **Understand you.** is what she didn’t say, all but shouted it in his ear. 

She wasn’t done, though. They walked through the lilies in Monet’s world and he waited while she sat and just took them in, silent and a little lost in the colors. 

_“I wish I was there.”_ Darcy remarked, a little wistfully. 

Steve laughed. “Don’t we all.” 

On the third floor she surprised both of them when she found a special exhibit on art from the 60’s, and started to educate _him_ on things she saw. _“Everything got weird in this time, you know? People our age that were creating these weren’t as inhibited by memories of the wars, eager to break out from the conformity of the 50’s and of course--drugs. So many drugs!”_

They had an apparently amazing collection of original, limited run records from that 60’s, and Darcy cooed and squealed over them like they were kittens, giving him histories and trivia about them he had never heard. “How do you know all this stuff?” 

The answer surprised him. _“Oh, my brother thinks he should have lived through the 60’s and 70’s, the dork. Says Jimi Hendrix was not a man but a God that walked among us for a time.”_ Steve laughed at that, letting the information complete the picture that was Darcy Lewis a little more. Though he was surprised she brought up her brother, he didn’t question his fortune. _“I mean, I agree with him, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a goob.”_

Their tour ended when Darcy’s phone dimmed, battery at 5%, and she stopped in front of a painting she said she hadn’t been able to walk past. “ _Christina’s World_ ” She read from the plaque, quietly. 

Steve sat down on his couch, taking a deep breath before responding, “You’re lucky. That one is my favorite. I’ve only seen it once.” 

Darcy made a small noise of encouragement for him to continue. “When I was young I was real sickly, could hardly leave the house. You can name just about any disease and I had it. My lungs were weak, my skin was fragile, my bones were a joke. Even my eyes were terrible. Ma’ was scared to let me leave the house, especially in Brooklyn, where it was muggy and polluted practically all the time.” 

_“But you’re an adonis now, what changed?”_ Darcy’s curiosity was unrestrained, but still almost polite, and earnest. 

He snorted, as he always did when people pointed out his current physique, still an awkward boy who would never really be comfortable looking like he did probably. Leaning further back in the cushions he ran a hand through his hair. “My ma found this experimental treatment program at the hospital she was working at by this internationally funded medical team. To be honest with you, it hurt like a sonofabitch and I don’t even remember all of it but they fixed me and I’ve been pretty keen on staying healthy now, as you know.” 

_“And the painting?”_ She asked, gently, possibly appreciating his honesty as much as he had appreciated her openness. 

“Christina was too sick to be free, that was as far as she could get from home safely. Just like me. Just like part of me will always feel.” 

_“I would carry you from that house every day.”_ It should have been funny and light hearted but Darcy sounded like she was making a blood oath to him. 

Then her phone died. 

_(Well. Steve Rogers was well and truly fucked.)_

It’s early November and Darcy has convinced him to skip classes for her birthday, to get Dippin’ Dots at the mall and then walk around campus. In the cold. It was an awful, terrible plan and his fingers were numb. 

It was fantastic. Or it _had_ been, her mood had been subdued after she received several rapidfire text messages just as they arrived back on campus, but she hadn’t offered a reason and he didn’t press. 

_She’d been humming some odd tune as they walked (possibly TMBG, knowing her), comfortable by now without saying anything, when she suddenly spoke. “Do you wanna know the real reason Jubilee and I became friends so fast?”_

Steve swallowed his ice cream quickly, with a weak attempt to appear calm and collected and not knowing why he still bothered around her. “Yeah, if you want to tell me.” 

Darcy moved the remaining dots around the cup as they walked, counting on Steve to nudge her around any obstacles. “We have more in common than you think her and I. Her birth parents were first generation immigrants, very successful in the stock market, incredibly smart and responsible. Her adopted dad knows like. Four languages, an acclaimed soldier and well. You’ve met Kitty, she knows all the girls on her hall, maintains almost perfect grades and volunteers!” 

Without even thinking about it he started to protest, coming to defense of his friend, “But she’s crazy smart! She also works hard and adopted Natasha so fast Sam wasn’t sure if he should be grateful or jealous.” Loyalty and willingness to take care of your friends was one of the core values of the Rogers-Barnes household, and one that Jubilee’s family apparently had in spades, something he had always appreciated about them. 

Darcy smiled at his fierce words. It calmed him instantly even while making his heart pick up, cheeks heating even in the cold. 

“I always kind of felt like a changeling in my family. Like someone took their baby who was going to grow up to be ambitious and smart and elegant and replaced it with me. I mean.” Darcy sighed, “I know they love me, my brother and my dad, but I guess I always kind of felt like. Like they would choose someone else if they could.” 

Ahead of them, in the parking lot of the main building that served as both cafeteria and main social spot for campus, an eye-catching red sports car pulled up, driving far too fast for a parking lot, with loud rock music blaring from it. 

What could he say to that? To soothe a lifetime of self-doubt, and was it even his place to do so? How could Steve respond to such trust and honesty as Darcy was showing him now, he couldn’t think of adequate words to encompass it except-- 

“I still want to be you when I grow up, you know that?” Ugh. What was he thinking? 

But it worked, the tension in the air seemed to shatter and Darcy laughed, wiping tears from her cheeks he had pretended not to notice and she smiled up at him almost giddily. 

“Did you mean it, way back when, that you would hide me from my family if I needed you to?” 

Steve took a deep breath and stood with his shoulders back as if preparing to march for war.  
“Of course!” The doors of the fancy car opened but he only noticed it out of the corner of his eyes because Darcy was smiling at him like--like--like he smiled at her every day he saw her. 

Without warning she stood up on her tip toes to kiss his cheek, “This isn’t that day, but just knowing it means, well, it sort of means everything to me, Steve.” 

The man from the car walked towards them. He wore a nicely tailored suit, sunglasses, and as he came closer it became apparent that his goatee was once probably very well-groomed but now was haphazard and scraggly. He grinned as he approached them. He was hard to place, even though his face was familiar, even though he was at least seven, maybe even ten years older than Steve. 

“Darcy! Happy Birthday little sister!” 

Holy shit. That voice. That was Tony Stark! Mack was listening to the man go on and on about his latest...something mechanical on the news over the weekend. 

Darcy was Tony Stark’s little sister. 

Suddenly, a lot of little things, combined with their current conversation, made way more sense. 

(Later, after one of the oddest family reunions he had ever bore witness to, Darcy quietly asked him if he resented her for not telling him, or the fact that she came from money. It wasn’t his intention to sound quite so raw when he told her _Nothing could make me resent you_ but the look on her face made him not regret it at all) 

Steve almost yelped in surprise when he was suddenly yanked from that path and around the corner, and his surprise was probably the only reason Darcy even managed it. 

_very_ inappropriate things, thank you, even worse when she leaned into him to peek around the corner. 

It was easy to see over the top of her head as he turned his own to see exactly what she was staring at. “Why are we spying on our friends?” It was hard not to smile, though, both at Darcy’s intent look and the sight of an excited Jubilee and an obviously nervous--though fond--Mack who was currently giving his girlfriend her Christmas present. 

Darcy bounced on her toes, apparently just as excited about her friend’s glee as if she were receiving the gift herself. It didn’t surprise him, as much as Darcy liked wandering off on random road trips, she also wanted to take care of people. Steve wondered for a moment if she had helped pick out the gift. 

The wrapping came off, and Mack was quick to grab the trash from the snow-covered ground and stuff it back in his backpack as Jubilee pulled out what appeared to be a new leather riding jacket. 

Across the back, her name had been embroidered with bright colors and fireworks exploded after the last “e”, an adornment Steve could see easily from his vantage point as Jubilee immediately slipped it on, squealing with glee as she jumped at Mack to embrace him. 

“I knew she’d love it.” Darcy sighed happily, looked giddy as she grinned up at him, answering his earlier question in the process. “Ready to go study?” 

Without waiting for his answer she grabbed at his belt loop to tug him along, not that he would have tried to resist anyway. He watched her feet kick up random clumps of snow as they walked towards the library, as he tried not to overthink his gift, or rather his request and his gift to her. 

This would be the perfect moment. They were outside in the beautiful snow, they were both in good moods and approaching what had somehow become Their Spot. 

Next to him he felt Darcy’s head lean against his arm as they walked, a habit that had become more common since classes had started back up, a closeness somehow gained from late night conversations from hundreds of miles away. 

Now. Now was the moment. 

Steve pulled away from her a step so he could see her face better but was thrown off when a mass of her hair stuck to his sweater, a sudden defiance of gravity brought on by static electricity. 

Darcy looked ridiculous, and she knew it, only managing to stay stoic for a moment before meeting his eyes and bursting into giggles, and he didn’t even bother freeing her hair before he joined her in laughter. That laugh, the one that made his toes curl and fingers itch to touch her face and tangle in her hair and make the rest of the world fall away made this so much easier. 

“For the holidays,” he started, because his family was both Jewish and Catholic and he loved it that way, “would you come stay with us? There’s a guest room, we would love to have you.” 

Darcy’s eyes didn’t leave his face even as she leaned a little closer to him, face still flush with laughter but calm now. “Are you sure--?” 

He leaned his head forward to gently rest his forehead against her’s, “Of course, I always am with you.” Darcy’s lips were chapped from the cold, she clutched his sweater like she feared he would flee and he tried to show her _I’ve been confused about you since I first saw you but yet you’re the only thing I understand_ all in one kiss and a tight hold on her hips. 

It was a bit much from both of them for their first kiss, but they couldn’t seem to give any less to one another. 


End file.
